


the spire

by thalassashells



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, Nonbinary Character, Other, i didnt mention byrgot in this and now im mad at myself, just like. a single scene from a night out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalassashells/pseuds/thalassashells
Summary: Hilda, Fray, the stars, and a night out.





	the spire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dazzler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzler/gifts).



> giftfic......not my most inspired thing but i did my best. hope its fun for everyone!

“Shite!”

“What? What’s going on up there?”

Hilda hisses a ‘shhh!’ from the beam she is balanced precariously atop. It had been less precarious approximately fifteen seconds ago before a good portion of it had crumbled beneath her. She’s about halfway up a crumbling spire right off the Brume wall – on a dare of her own making.

Fray is about five steps behind her, and giving it all they’ve got to get to the top first.

“What do I win for this, anyway?” They grumble, smacking Hilda’s foot as they grasp the bar she’s trying to find a way off.

“I don’t remember,” Hilda grunts as she hauls herself up another level – the top is in sight so long as she doesn’t slip, “Jail time, if you keep up your yappin’”

“Like they’ve ever caught me.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Wouldn’t you just break me out anyway?” Fray laughs. 

“Of course I would, don’t be bloody stupid -” Hilda can’t help but glare down as the low chuckle rings through the air. She can’t see much of them in the dark – only their forehead and bright eyes lit by the stars that somehow shone through the smog. 

Oh, hells, they always knew how to distract her. In the time it took her to secure a place to look smug they were scrambling up to her resting spot, face to face with her in minutes. 

Fray’s whole face was lit now, revealing a large toothy grin and a sparkle in their golden gaze. 

“Weather’s nice up here, hm?” They lean in close, too close for comfort. Their words are lined with that distinctive chuckle, like the creaking of a wagon’s wheel. 

Hilda decides then and there to take advantage of their moment of self satisfaction and closes the gap between them with a kiss. Fray makes a high pitched noise in the back of their throat before leaning into the kiss, barely able to contain their smile.

She wishes she could wrap her arms around them without sending them both plummeting a few yalms – but the warmth of their lips on hers melted the aching cold of Ishgard’s night away, brought life back to her jaw where she hadn’t realized she’d been clenching it.

Fray, of course, takes the risk of moving one hand from the tower to Hilda’s head. They thread their fingers through her hair and pull her ponytail out with it, letting her dark tresses fall around her face.   
One of the things she loved most about kissing them was the way they got lost in it. It was as though they forgot completely that they were yalms in the air, that they were braving the Ishgard night together, that when they parted cold air would come rushing back in to steal their shared heat.

Fray also forgot that Hilda had another hand. One which had been silently searching during their long, languid kiss for a handhold and had finally found one.

Hilda parts for air and Fray tilts forward as though they can catch the ghost of the feeling as it goes. Before they open her eyes she’s hauled herself to the next and final level of scaffolding, taking her place as queen of forgotten construction and not much else.

“Easy as piss.” Hilda rests her hands on her hips and takes a deep, triumphant breath, her exhale a billowing cloud of white.

“You’re a gods damned nightmare, you are!” Fray barks, “No respect for knights!”

“Not a scrap.” She leers as she leans forward over the edge to stick her tongue out at them -

Fray’s knapsack comes flying over the edge of the platform before they do and knocks Hilda square in the shins.

Hilda staggers with an exasperated gasp, “Watch the bottles, Halone’s tits!”

“Scared to get the piss you drink on your new pants?” Fray finally clambers up top and allows themselves to immediately drop on their behind, running one hand through their sweat-matted hair.

Instead of dignifying more of their weightless teasing with a response Hilda fishes the bottles out of Fray’s knapsack, between random pieces of clothing they insisted they ‘might need’ and various stones and other trinkets they found. Her bags may be a bit more organized, but she appreciated the adventure of going through Fray’s.

She tosses one to Fray and they almost don’t catch it – their eyes had been fixed on the horizon, heavy and tired.

She scoots over to be beside them and they drape against her shoulder.

“Stargazing?” She asks and takes a swig of ale.

“Oschon’s in the sky right now.” They point to a tiny patch of blackness not totally concealed by billows of smoke. Hilda squints down their arm like a sight to see a tiny green star twinkling in the distance. Its faint as anything – but its there.

“Outside the city you can see his whole leg,” they add, then draw their finger up in a diagonal line, “three stars to the northeast and two just to the northwest. That’s where the astrologians draw his bow.”

“Didn’t know you liked that kind of thing. I was born under Oschon, y’know.” Hilda says.

“Really? You always struck me more as a Rhaglr’s girl.” Fray faux-contemplatively strokes their chin and Hilda swats their shoulder, making them duck and lean away as though she’d smacked them. 

“And that’s what I’m talking about!” Fray huffs, “I’m one of Menphina’s, myself.”

“Enlighten me, professor, on what exactly that means.” Hilda says suspiciously.  
Fray’s gaze turns wicked and they slide one hand over Hilda’s, drawing in close to her as she had done earlier during the climb. Eye to eye, nose to nose, they peck her lips once, twice, then glide over to her jaw and up her ear. 

Hilda breathes a sigh and tilts her head to give them more space, happy to let them lavish attention on her like this. She gasps as she feels a hand begin to travel down her side – stopping short at her hip.

“It means I’m good at things like this.” Fray breathes against her ear. 

“Mm,” Hilda muses, grabbing the hand they had lain on her hip and pulling it lower, “You’ll have to explain further.”

Whatever bet they may have had earlier in the night, Hilda was sure she’d won.


End file.
